Love Birds
by WannabeDragronTamer88
Summary: Clint's better half shocked everyone by showing up in Age of Ultron. But she didn't just randomly come into being for shock value. She's always been around: building a life with Clint, befriending Natasha, living a life almost no one would want and being REALLY excellent at it. This is the beginning of that story, or my version anyway - and it starts with Clint, sitting in a tree.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

 _ **That one guy – sitting in Laura's tree…**_

Laura opened her door with a sigh, dropped her bag and keys to the ground, kicked the door shut with her foot, and closed her eyes for one long moment.

Nursing school was a lot more manageable when it had just been homework – three weeks into practicals, and Laura hurt everywhere.

But it was worth it: she left work each day with her body screaming in pain and every other part of her counting down the seconds until they could return to the sterile building.

Laura let the fatigue settle in her bones, her eyes closed, standing in the foyer of her little apartment, and then she shook herself and started to move to her bedroom, or the bathroom specifically.

In her single-minded focus she didn't even turn on the light, skipping that step and rushing right towards stripping off her dirty scrubs.

That was, embarrassingly enough, when she saw him, her top halfway over her head and revealing far more than she preferred.

But really, it wasn't HER fault – how was she supposed to know that she'd be coming home from work to find a strange man perched on a tree branch right outside her window?

The man seemed equally as surprised as she was, and later Laura would laugh about the fact that they were frozen in nearly identical positions.

Both laura and this strange man were upright, their shirts half raised to reveal the skin of their stomachs, and in laura's case, a hint of light blue lace. Their eyes were locked, Laura's brown onto the mans startling blue, unblinking in their surprise.

They both seemed to shake off the surprise at the same time, and the man's mouth quirked up on one side, his skin crinkling at the corner of his eyes, displaying his amusement.

Laura shrieked, shoved her top back down and rushed to her room, slamming the door behind her and leaning against it, as if the man would attempt to enter at any moment.

Her chest heaved in surprise as she recalled what the man's raised shirt had revealed.

A wound, deep and bleeding, thin and curved and resembling a stab injury," her mind supplied. The man had held thread and needle, and looked as if he were attempting to stitch himself back together.

Part of Laura wanted to call the cops. Another part of her wanted to forget the man, leave him and his injury in the tree while she washed her day off of her. But the biggest part of Laura knew she wouldn't settle until she'd done what she could.

Sighing and internally arguing with herself, she slowly opened her door and stepped into her living room, half hoping the man had disappeared.

No – he was still there, seated now and leaning against the trunk of the tree.

He spared her a quick glance and a sheepish smile before turning back to his injury, where one shaky hand was attempting to insert the needle into his skin.

Forgetting the danger with the evidence of the man's weakness, Laura approached the window quickly and slowly slid it open.

He raised his head and watched her approach with a raised eyebrow, staying silent as he waited for her to speak.

She opened her mouth only to find her throat dry, and so she paused to clear it. When she spoke, it was more timidly than she'd wanted – but at least she hadn't lost her nerve. "Do you want some help?"

At her offer, the man grinned brightly and handed over the needle and thread.

Laura took them surprised at how quickly the man climbed through her window and hopped onto her couch, settling in and laying so his injury was within easy reach.

"I thought you'd never ask," he said cheekily, and Laura furrowed her eyebrow, realizing that he very well might have just played her – but she was surprised to find that she didn't really mind.

She moved forward to start stitching his wound together, amused at how her night was going so far – not worried in the slightest.

The man was strange, that was for sure, but he was injured, and he seemed harmless.

And this was what Laura did – she helped people.

* * *

 _ **First comes love**_

That first night, Laura had stitched the man up in minutes and he'd smiled, thanked her, and slipped out her window, climbing down the tree quickly and disappearing into the night, and Laura didn't expect to see him again.

Except, a few nights later, he was back, with a new injury (fractured wrist) and another sheepish smile for Laura. She sighed, let him in, and took out his stitches after setting his wrist for him. Just like before, he simply thanked her and left, and Laura thought it all a bit weird before forgetting about it altogether.

At least until the next time he returned.

Soon enough, his appearances began to become a regular thing, every few days or so, that bright smile would flash at her from outside her window and he'd sheepishly show off a new injury. Laura would sigh and smile, and then let him in and patch him up as best she knew how, and after a few months of this, they began to talk.

Laura found out his name – hawkeye – and his occupation – assassin – and Laura told him about school and about her part time job as a nanny. He was different than all the other men Laura knew – because he knew how to listen. His story was all lies of course, but with every insightful question and laugh at just the right spot, Laura found herself getting caught up with the man she knew nothing about. Except; she knew that he liked to climb trees, that whatever he spent his time doing caused him injury, that he was a good listener – that he had a nice smile. That, as months past and the meetings continued, maybe, was all Laura needed to maybe fall in love.

It was nearly eight months to the day they'd first met, and Laura had come home to find him, for the first time, injury free, waiting at her window and wearing for the first time something other than the sleeveless, leather, purple and black – thing - he usually wore.

Instead he was wearing a pale blue v-neck and dark jeans, and Laura smiled and moved to open the window.

"No injury today?" She asked, and he shrugged, his smile suddenly turning nervous.

"I'm not here to see the doctor today," He admitted, and Laura's eyebrows raised in surprise. "I'm actually ah – wondering if Laura might like to have dinner with me?"

Laura leaned back in surprise. That wasn't what she'd expected – and it was certainly the oddest way she'd been asked out on a date – but what did she have to lose? She smiled and nodded, and he beamed.

"Great!" Laura heard a ding from behind her, and as she turned to find the source of the noise, he was climbing inside and hurrying to the oven, where he removed a grilled chicken breast that smelled divine."

"Dinner's ready!" He chirped, plating the chicken and setting it in a spot on her table obviously reserved for just that purpose, as the rest of Laura's tiny kitchen table housed two plates, cutlery set out, cloth napkins Laura hadn't even known she owned, glasses half-filled with wine, and one daisy in a vase.

Laura looked in surprise at the man who hovered nervously by the table, smile hesitant, and she laughed.

It was weird, and a little questionable - But sweet. And he was cute.

So she took a seat and let him push her chair in and smiled helplessly at the man as he sat across from her.

What kind of woman went on a date with a man when she didn't even know his name?

The same woman, Laura mused, that fell in love with the guy who sat in trees.

* * *

 **Cute...**

 **Review/Follow/Favorite?**

 **~CLC~**


	2. Chapter 2

**See Chapter One for Disclaimer**

* * *

 _ **3_Then Comes a Scary Assassin**_

It took Laura a few months of dating before she finally got a REAL name out of her boyfriend.

Clint.

At first, Laura had thought THAT was a fake name too – really? CLINT? But then he got his feathers ruffled, and Laura realized the man was serious.

His name was Clint Barton.

He still stuck with the "Assassin" lie, and Laura let him because – well. His stories were fabulous.

Maybe an odd reason to let him keep his secrets, but Laura wasn't pushy. And he was constantly bragging about how brave she was for dating such a dangerous man.

The guy liked to curl up in a ball under a few dozen blankets every night, and he cooed instead of snore – yeah, he was real dangerous.

Laura didn't actually realize he was serious until her life had been put in danger.

No, she wasn't kidnapped, and no, she wasn't ransomed.

Her boyfriend's best friend and partner just decided to pay her a visit.

At 2 in the morning.

Sitting on her dresser.

A knife in one hand.

* * *

Laura had woken up immediately, the first weird thing to happen. Usually she woke up groggy and unable to form full sentances until her coffee kicked in.

But that night, she'd woken up instantly alert.

The other weird thing was that she'd woken up in the middle of the night.

For as long as she could remember she'd slept through the night, unconscious until her alarm clock forced her to open her eyes.

She could just make out her alarm, it's glowing numbers reading 2:17am.

She blinked, confused.

Why was she awake?

And then someone cleared their throat.

Laura's body seized up. She really, really didn't want to look.

But curiousity got the better of her, and she slowly rolled over.

She saw the figure right away, sitting with legs crossed on her dresser, but it took a few blinks for the figure to come into focus.

It was a woman, dressed all in black and wearing the shadows around her like accessories.

The woman didn't look up, too focused on the knife in her hands.

She turned the blade strategically, letting the glint of silver hit the moonlight coming in through the window just right, making the small rotation of her wrist seem ominous – like a threat.

"Hello?" Laura said slowly, sitting up.

The woman snorted and lifted her eyes. Laura froze at the eye contact.

"I don't see it," she finally said. Her voice was low, in deference to the mood she'd set, her words drawn out just so, and Laura shivered – not entirely because of the cold.

"See what?" Laura asked nervously.

The woman snorted. "Exactly." She leapt off the dresser suddenly and Laura jerked back.

"Be good," She warned.

Laura blinked – and the woman was gone.

* * *

Clint showed up that morning – through her window, as always, right when Laura was in the middle of packing.

He climbed in beaming and carrying a box of donuts – Laura's weakness – and his smile dropped as soon as he realized what was happening.

He opened his mouth – to say what, Laura wasn't sure and she didn't care, she pointed at him and shook her head furiously.

* * *

For after the woman left, Laura had evaluated her life decisions.

And Laura realized that the logo on the knife the woman had been holding matched the one that Clint wore on his uniform.

HE was the reason she'd been threatened – why, she wasn't sure, but Clint had some sort of affiliation with the woman from that morning and that woman was DANGEROUS, and suddenly Laura's mild-mannered boyfriend who could be clumsy and cooed in his sleep suddenly was dangerous as well, and Laura wanted to live.

"No!" She said suddenly, advancing on Clint so quickly that all he could do was step back in retreat. "Get out – get OUT,"

"Was it something I said?" He blurt out, and she was close enough to touch him, so she shoved him in the chest as hard as she could.

He stepped back – not from the force but because that's what she wanted, it seemed.

"Wait, Laura whats wrong?"

"You!" Laura burst out, pausing to stare at him wild-eyed. "You're an Assassin?"

Clint smirked. "Yeah – and? You already knew this."

The smirk sent Laura back into action and she shoved him again, and again.

"I didn't realize you were serious!" She said, panicked. "I can't – knives, and nighttime visitors and threats on my LIFE, NO, get OUT,"

"Laura – what?" Clint suddenly became concerned, his eyebrows furrowing. "Someone threatened you? Who threatened you?"

Laura jabbed the logo on his hoodie. "That woman – her knife had this on it! I won't – I want to live, Clint!"

"I'm glad," He said quickly, "I'd like to live too, preferably with y-"

"No!" Laura gave one last push and Clint tumbled out her window.

She slammed the window shut but still heard the loud screech of pain.

* * *

She didn't check on him. If she checked she would feel bad and she'd let him in and she'd let him explain and he'd look at her with those eyes of his and she'd live a life of danger and intrigue.

She didn't want danger – OR intrigue. She wanted a husband who cooed in his sleep and kids. She couldn't have both.

And she couldn't stay in her apartment any longer.

Leaving most of her possessions behind, she grabbed her duffel bag and her car keys and she was gone.

* * *

Months passed.

On that day, filled with fear, Laura had left New York and drove – finally landing in a small town with a hospital small enough that they'd gladly allowed her to finish her residency with them, a job guaranteed as soon as she'd finished training.

And Laura found, born and raised in the city, that there was something about the small country town.

She couldn't have the man she wanted, but she could have the town. She could have her job.

And so maybe she wasn't exactly HAPPY – but she was alive.

And then the woman found her again.

The next time she showed up though, she didn't come alone.

* * *

It was early in the morning, and different from the first visit, the woman was extremely loud, entering Laura's apartment, knocking something over, the loud crash jerking Laura out of sleep. She was out of bed and peeking behind around her door-frame.

It was the woman alright, but she was half-carrying, half-dragging a bulky body.

A body Laura recognized – and the sight of a half-conscious, obviously injured Clint got Laura to move.

She hurried to Clint's other side and helped the woman drag Clint towards her kitchen island, where it took both of them to hoist Clint up, and then Laura was patting him down, looking for injuries, while the woman turned on all the lights and went in search of rags and a bowl for water.

Laura grimaced at the sight of the wound – long and jagged and running down one side of Clint's chest. Laura can just make out glints of glass still embedded in the wound and her heart clenched.

"I need Alcohol," She snapped out, forgetting the woman in her kitchen is a terrifying assassin and not the assistant Laura is currently ordering her about like. "There's a case under my bathroom sink with Clint's name on it. I need that too." Laura grabbed a knife from a drawer and began slicing through Clint's shirt: it had to go, and by the time his chest was bared, the woman had returned, the case in hand. Laura wrenched it open grabbed the rubbing alcohol, flinging off the cap and drenching the wound with it.

Clint shouted at the sting and Laura answered him unconsciously with a humming noise, and Clint immediately calmed.

She set down the now empty bottle and a pair of tweezers were being thrust into her hand.

Laura froze – finally remembering that Clint hadn't appeared alone. Her gaze was caught by deep blue eyes, and Laura was afraid to blink, but the woman just nodded meaningfully. "He's got broken rib and his shoulders out of socket."

"Don't assassins have any medical training for the field?" Laura asked, and she shrugged.

"Broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder I can handle. Tweezers and glass - I can do. It's the punctured lung that's got me worried."

Laura gasped and returned her attention to Clint, moving furiously.

She had to re-inflate his lung immediately, and distracted by her worry and her work, Laura forgot about the woman altogether.

* * *

It wasn't until hours later, when Clint was resting peacefully, lung reinflated and chest stitched together, shoulder back in place and fingers wrapped tightly around Laura's hand, that she remembers.

The woman stood on the other side of the island, arms crossed and looking grudgingly impressed.

"Are you here to kill me?" Laura asked hesitantly, and the woman smiled grudgingly.

"No." She tilted her head. "Usually I answer that question differently," she mused, and Laura shuddered. "I'm here to apologize," she added quietly and Laura's eyebrows furrowed.

"What?"

The woman huffed. "That guy over there is an idiot – but he saved my life, many times, actually. I'm very protective of him, and when he told me about you, I assumed the worst."

"What – that I'd send my friends to threaten him in the dead of night with a knife?" Laura said dryly, and the woman standing across from her did something Laura hadn't expected.

She laughed.

"He didn't send me," she reassured. "He didn't even know I'd gone until after – and he wasn't happy."

She tilted her head. "He really likes you," she admitted grudgingly, and despite how surreal the moment felt, Laura flushed.

"Well," she sputtered in surprise, "I really like him too. But I wanna live."

"And in our line of work that's no guarantee," The woman spoke frankly. "Clint doesn't come with the cookie cutter life – not the house, not the kids, not the dog. He comes with lonely nights and danger, and a lot of secrets."

"He also comes with stupid jokes, a great smile, and a good heart." Laura added stubbornly. "I can deal with all the rest – as long as I get that stuff too."

"Can you?" The woman asked frankly, and Laura paused.

There was a pang in her heart at the thought of no kids, the wedding she'd imagined since she was a child disappearing before her eyes. The dog was never a must – have, but it had been a want, and Laura grimaced at the thought of no dog.

Then she thought about a life with all of that – the house the dog, the kids – but no Clint.

And she shuddered.

"Yes," She said matter of factly. "But only if you promise not to break into my home and threaten my life anymore."

"I don't know if I can do that," The woman said, but Laura could hear the amusement, and she smiled.

A loud groan broke the chummy moment and both women rushed over to Clint, who was flinging his arms about worriedly.

"Clint!" The woman ordered. "Stop – you're safe, look who's here."

"Keep moving and you'll wreck my stitches," Laura said sternly. "Stay still."

Clint's eyes snapped open at Laura's voice, and he obeyed without hesitation. A smile grew on his face.

"When did you get here?" He asked, and Laura rolled her eyes.

"I live here. What was it this time? Mob boss?"

"Mob Bosses daughter. Had a mean knife swing."

Laura, despite herself, smiled, and she let her hand reach out to clasp Clint's. He returned the grip tightly, eyes turning warily to the woman on his other side.

"Why?" Clint said slowly, and the woman shrugged.

"We needed a doctor," She started, and then she tilted her head. "And you're always talking about how great this one is. I wanted to see for myself."

There was a lot that the woman seemed to say, within that brief explanation, and Clint looked at her through narrowed eyes before the corner of his mouth quirked up.

"You're impressed," He concluded, and the woman shrugged.

"I can see why you like her," she relented.

"And you apologized?" Clint pressed. The woman huffed.

"I was getting to it," She grumbled, and Laura squeezed Clint's hand. He focused on her face, and she smiled.

"I've forgiven her," she said. "And she's promised not to do it again." This was said with a pointed look at the woman, who made a face, but then nodded, expression serious. Laura shrugged and returned her gaze to Clint.

"Besides," she added lightly. "Knowing that there's someone who cares so much watching your back in the field makes me feel better."

"So you're not going to throw me out any more windows?" Clint asked hopefully, and Laura laughed.

"Only when you deserve it," she relented.

"And you'll be with me again?" He added, and she nodded.

"And you'll marry me?" Clint pressed his luck, and Laura laughed.

"When you ask me properly," She answered promptly, and even as Clint opened his mouth she held up a finger – "When you are fully healed up and your friend knows me well enough to like me better and be my maid of honor over being your best man," she finished, and Clint pouted.

"I already like you better," The woman said, and Laura locked eyes with the woman she'd never seen with the lights on.

Feeling determined, she reached out for her kitchen lights and flicked them on and the face of the woman – pale skin, defined cheekbones, rich red hair and deep green eyes, appeared.

Laura smiled and held out her hand.

"Laura," She said with a smile. The woman's mouth quirked up on one side, and she reached out to grasp Laura's hand.

"Natasha," She introduced herself, finally.

"You can call me Nat."

* * *

 **NAT.**

 **Review/Follow/Favorite?**

 **~CLC~**


	3. Chapter 3

**See Chapter one for Disclaimer**

* * *

 _4_And THEN comes Marriage…_

"You read the file this time, right?"

Clint snorted, even as he reached out to clasp Nat's had in his own. He tilted his head so the dark sunglasses he wore were nearly completely hidden by the baseball cap he wore.

"Why would I do that? You're the brains of the operation, I just shoot the arrows."

Nat internally rolled her eyes as she outwardly giggled and leaned close to whisper into Clint's ear. "You're still upset about that conversation I had with Laura then?" She concluded. "We were teasing you, Barton."

"Yeah?" Clint reached for a nearby door handle, gallantly holding it open for Nat, who smiled and stepped into the cool store. "Because, you know I have thin skin. Embarrassing me in front of my lady hurt me, Nat."

He entered behind Nat, leaning close to blow harshly into one ear. Nat acted like she liked it, then moved to the display in front of them.

She peered down in interest at the rings protected under glass, pointing to one at random.

"Lehet, Latni?" Nat asked in throaty Hungarian, and the shopkeeper nodded and unlocked the case quickly.

"hogy az egyik túl," Clint added brusquely, and Nat shot him a look, even as the shopkeeper nodded and pulled both rings out to inspect.

Nat turned slightly, placing the ring she'd chosen on one finger and using the light coming from the window to look it over. She maintained this stance as her eyes flicked quickly out the window to where two men where arriving at the shop across the street, just exiting a sports vehicle.

"Check it," Nat ordered softly in English, and Clint turned, still looking at the ring.

"Van egy mérete hét?" Natasha asked the shopkeeper, and he nodded and moved to check the back room.

"És ez egy hat méret?" Clint turned suddenly, and the shopkeeper nodded again.

"I'm a size seven," Nat muttered dryly.

"Well it's not for you, is it?" Clint snapped back, moving slightly to see better out the window.

Nat stopped, slightly surprised. "It's not –" She looked down at the ring Clint held in one hand.

It was obvious what it was for – and WHO it was for.

"Clint Barton," she hissed, but she had to pause, because the shopkeeper was returning with both rings in hand.

Clint snatched the one he was considering and held it to the light, in the opposite direction of the window – of the suspects they were watching. Or – SUPPOSED to be watching.

"Unbelievable," Nat muttered angrily, smiling at the shopkeeper and handing the ring back.

"But do you think she'll like it?" He asked, holding it out for her.

Nat internally sighed, smiled brightly and took the ring from Clints hand.

She was turned so that she could see the suspects enter the building, knowing that they had mere minutes to complete their mission before the men returned, but she gave Clint a few seconds, and really considered the ring in front of her.

It was simple, a thin, silver band with a medium sized princess cut diamond in the center. It matched Laura's tastes perfectly, and would look great on her finger.

"This is not the time, Clint," She muttered, but Clint grinned, because he could tell she liked it.

"Kiveszem!" Clint ordered cheerfully to the shopkeeper. Then he made a dash for the door, rushing across the street with Nat on his heels.

* * *

Nat had given the ring Clint had chosen too many seconds, as the duo was not finished tagging the car before their suspects reappeared, and they were forced to grab their weapons.

"I can't believe you!" Nat snapped as she grappled with one man for the car keys. "Ring shopping? On a work trip?"

"I was seizing the moment!" Clint called back as he was forced into hand to hand combat. "The exchange rates here are killer!"

"You could've waited until after the mission," Nat snapped, growling as a group of men poured out of the building in front of them. "You could've waited forever – really? Marriage?"

Clint laughed and pulled a knife from one mans side, throwing it with accuracy into another mans neck. "What are you always saying, Nat? If I like it, then I should put a ring on it?"

Nat unloaded her magazine and then paused – stopped fighting during a critical moment, to shoot Clint a disbelieving look. "Did – did you just mix me up with Beyonce?" She asked, and Clint made a face.

"Did I?" He shrugged, reaching to nock another arrow into his bow. "Whoops. Anyway, the sentiments the same."

"But now? HERE?" She repeated, and Clint shoved two men out of the way, leaping over the car to take cover.

"I think I've waited long enough, the ring was perfect, and did I mention the exchange rates?" He grinned, and Nat couldn't stop herself from smirking back.

"Besides," He added cheerily. "You don't argue with Beyonce!"

"Well, if you really want that ring, we'd better deal with these idiots before the shop burns to the ground," Nat pointed out, and Clint growled, raised up, and threw an arrow that landed perfectly, into the center of a car hood.

It hit something important, because it exploded, and the group of ten that Nat and Clint had been previously facing exploded.

"You go get that flash drive," Clint ordered quickly, and Nat felt a spark of surprise.

He HAD read the file.

"I'm gonna go buy my ring," Clint let his bow rest against one shoulder and marched across the street, his clothing torn and stained with blood, dirt on his cheek and limping slightly.

He was going to terrify that shopkeeper, Nat realized as she hurried towards the vehicle and grabbed the few things she was looking for.

She chuckled suddenly.

Because one didn't disobey Beyoncé, apparently.

* * *

 _5_Then comes…_

Laura opened the front door of her and Clint's home and snorted when the door fell with a loud thud to the ground.

"You took the door off its hinges, I see," she called into the farmhouse.

A chuckle that came from upstairs was the only response she got.

Laura let herself sag against the side of the doorframe for a moment – just one.

It had been a long day – a long few weeks actually, and she was drained.

But at least she knew why she was drained, now.

And it was a good tired.

Well, maybe.

* * *

"Hey baby!" A duffle bag was thrown over the upstairs railing, and Laura sighed heavily, glaring at the offending bag.

It could only mean one thing.

"Mission?" She concluded, and Clint paused on the steps, grimacing.

"Last minute, very crucial," he began, but Laura waved her hand – the explanation was always the same.

"It's fine," she said. "You leaving soon?"

"About ten minutes," Clint followed Laura as she made her way to the kitchen, dropping a few bags on their kitchen counter and starting to unload them. "Long day?"

"Surprising day," Laura admitted with a smile. "But okay." She smiled wistfully at the two mugs in her hands, then placed them in the cupboard, closing the door with a loud thud. "Listen," She said seriously. "When you get back from this one – we need to talk."

Clint froze – he knew what that meant.

"Oh," He said, his voice small. "We do?"

"Yes," She nodded firmly. "As soon as you get home, it's VERY important."

"Okay." Clint nodded slowly. "Okay." He moved forward suddenly and pulled Laura into a tight hug, and Laura smiled and returned the hug tightly.

Clint held her for as long as he was allowed, then let her go with a chaste kiss. "I love you," He said seriously – before grabbing his bag and heading for the door.

Laura sighed heavily when she heard him fit the door back into the doorframe.

It was time for a NAP.

* * *

Nat knew something was wrong the second she caught sight of Clint – but she could also tell that Clint absolutely did NOT want to talk about it. So she waited and kept her mouth shut.

She didn't say anything during the debriefing, during the flight to, during the mission.

But finally, on the way home, Clint flying the jet and her stuck sitting next to him, running co-pilot, she couldn't stand it.

* * *

"Spill," She ordered, and Clint huffed.

"I think I'm getting fired," He admitted despondently, and Nat snorted.

"What? From the agency? That's ridiculous," She started, but Clint interrupted her with a laugh.

"NO not from the agency! They'd never fire me! No, I think Laura is going to fire me." His eyebrows furrowed. Nat blinked, confused.

"Laura fire you? From," She paused.

"From marriage!" Clint finished for her. "I know I'm not the best husband – I'm gone a lot, I leave projects half-finished, I have nightmares, I don't like doing dishes,"

"You did miss your guys' one year anniversary," Nat pointed out. "And you were late to your own wedding,"

"Well I'm not perfect!" Clint snorted. "But I didn't think she'd fire me for it!"

"How do you know she's going to fire you?" Nat asked reasonably. She wasn't really worried – firing Clint didn't sound like something Laura would do – and Clint WAS prone to exaggerations.

"She told me we needed to talk." Clint stressed. "That's totally code for break up, isn't it?" He sighed. "But we're married, so we can't just break up – she's going to fire me."

"I think the word you're looking for is," Nat tried to correct, but Clint hissed angrily before Nat could get the word _Divorce_ out. Nat rolled her eyes.

"Well – is there a reason she's suddenly apparently reached this conclusion?" Nat asked. "Any big problems arise recently, any big changes or conversations?" She pressed.

"No! I didn't notice any problems!" Clint burst out worriedly. He was silent for a long moment, and then he sighed.

"We were talking about having a baby," he admitted grudgingly, and Nat shot him a look of surprise. Clint shrugged awkwardly. "I know you think that's crazy, what with our line of work-"

"Clint," Nat interrupted harshly. "Look at me."

And her best friend shot her a half-hearted smile, his eyes filled with anxiety.

Nat turned to look out the windshield of the plane, biting the inside of her cheek indecisively. Then she came to a decision.

"I talked to Laura – that night you got hurt and I tracked her down after she'd fled," Nat began. "I told her you weren't a pretty package – that you didn't come with the house, the kids, the dog. I warned her away from you – and she got back with you in full knowledge of the fact that you came with limited options, because of your job and who you worked for. Agents and Assassins don't get happily ever afters," Nat said, and Clint huffed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

"I believed that for all of us," She continued slowly. "Before I saw you and Laura together."

Clint turned to her, surprised, and Nat shrugged. "If anyone can do it, you and Laura can," She assured. "I've never known you to throw in the towel. Fight for her, you idiot."

Clint laughed. "You're my best friend," He said suddenly, and Nat smiled.

"I'm your best friend that's always right," She corrected. "So when you get home, you talk with your wife. And whatever she says, you fight for each other."

Clint nodded.

"I think you'd be a great father," she added after a moment, and Clint grinned.

"Well, I'll make sure you get the chance to be proven right," He said cheerfully, back in a good mood once more, and Nat smiled.

* * *

"Honey I'm home!" Clint called as he threw his front door open. Nat, standing behind him, holding both their duffle bags, rolled her eyes.

"Kitchen, babe," Laura's bemused voice called out. "Nat with you?"

"Duh." Clint rolled his eyes and followed the sound of his wife's voice, Nat a few steps behind.

They found her leaning against the kitchen island, her elbows on the countertop, her chin resting in one hand, the other rubbing her forehead tiredly.

Clint and Nat stopped just in the doorway and shared a look.

"You alright there?" Nat asked, and Laura looked up, shooting the two a tired smile.

"I've been better," She said ruefully. "Coffee?" She pushed two coffee mugs towards them. Nat nodded and took one stool, but Clint stayed where he was and planted his fists on his hips.

"I don't want nuthin till you tell me if you're firing me or not," He said stubbornly, and Laura raised her eyebrows, shooting Nat a look.

 _Divorce_ , Nat mouthed, and Laura straightened in shock.

"What? No! Clint – NO," She said quickly, eyes wide.

That wasn't what this was about then, Nat concluded, though she hadn't really thought so in the first place.

"Come drink your coffee," Laura coaxed, but Clint shook his head.

"You're not firing me?" He clarified.

"The opposite." Laura smiled. "Please? Your coffee?" Her voice lowered, she blinked innocently, and Clint looked suspicious but finally joined Nat at the counter. Neither of them reached for their mugs.

"What do you mean by the opposite?" He asked slowly, and Laura's smiled widened, tears filling her eyes. Clint half rose worriedly, but Laura waved him back down, letting a watery laugh loose.

"No, I'm fine, my emotions are just everywhere," she explained vaguely, and Nat's eyes narrowed.

"What I mean is," Laura took a deep breath to maintain her emotions, and then she very intentionally turned the coffee mugs in front of Nat and Clint. "Is that you're getting promoted. Both of you, actually," Laura smiled at Nat, then very slowly dragged her gaze down.

Nat followed her gaze and froze.

Clint was still grumbling, he hadn't noticed yet, so Nat grabbed his chin with one hand and directed his gaze where it needed to be.

On the coffee mugs Laura had placed in front of them, their mugs both decorated with black font, but reading different words.

Clint's mug read _Daddy._

* * *

Suddenly someone was screeching, and Laura was being squeezed within an inch of her life, and Nat watched the couple hug, smiling for the best friends she'd ever had, even as her heart clenched.

She'd never have this – a family of her own.

She ran one finger over the words on her mug – _Auntie Nat._

It had been something too impossible for her to believe would ever happen.

But Impossible wasn't a word that existed in the Barton's vocabulary, and without even realizing it, Nat had beaten the odds as well.

Laura and Clint were her family – just like their kids would be.

And she would be _Auntie Nat._

It was the best role she'd ever been given.

* * *

 **This is the end! Unless someone tells me something specific they want to see - this is as all she wrote.**

 **Thank you so much for reading, translations of the language Nat and Clint were speaking will be at the bottom! (It's hungarian, by the way. Hopefully.)**

 **Review/Favorite?**

 **Much Love,**

 **~CLC~**

* * *

 **Translations: (ISH)**

 _Lehet, Latni - Can I see?_

 _Hogy az egyik túl - And this one too._

 _Van egy mérete hét? - Do you have a size seven?_

 _És ez egy hat méret? - and a size six in this one?_

 _Kiveszem - I'll take it!_


End file.
